Nene, 44, is a striking woman with a bald head. Her life is a skein of tragedies, but you wouldn't know it from her spirited smile. She lowers her voice as she speaks.

"I have two children," she says, but her last three pregnancies resulted in "miscarriages", a euphemism here for an abortion.

"I had to," she explains. It was not an easy decision, but she knew that she could not afford another mouth to feed. In fear and desperation she went to a hilot, a traditional birth attendant.

"I had some bitter herbs, then jumped down the stairs," she says. After a few attempts she saw a patch of blood. Nene knows she was luckier than most, but can't help wondering if her breast cancer may be related to the toxins she consumed.

According to the Guttmacher Institute, a non-profit organisation which works to advance sexual and reproductive health, nearly 1,000 women in the Philippines die every year because of unsafe abortions and many thousands more are admitted into hospitals because of abortion-related complications. Nearly 68% of those who resort to abortions are poor.

Nene is hopeful that the reproductive health bill will help women like her find the information they need to prevent unwanted pregnancies. But the Catholic church is a major obstacle to better reproductive healthcare.

"Reproductive health and the Church don't jive," says Nene.

The church believes that the bill is an attempt to promote and legalise abortion in the Philippines. Rather than risk its ire, advocates of the bill remain silent on lifting the ban on abortion, which remains illegal even in cases of rape, incest, or when the mother's life is in danger.